


Forsaken

by FreeShavocadoo



Series: Demon deals AU [11]
Category: HiGH&LOW (Movies), HiGH&LOW: the Story of S.W.O.R.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Hunters, Multi, Revelations, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 19:24:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15914709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreeShavocadoo/pseuds/FreeShavocadoo
Summary: Kato finally awakens, Shion attempts to navigate through questionable activities, Smokey continues to be dangerously curious and Tatsumi Iemura is finally close to getting what he wants.





	Forsaken

It’s like the world was suddenly tilted, everything was skewed and in disarray for what seemed like an eternity but was most likely the passing of mere minutes. The white spots in his field of vision look vaguely like stars in the night sky, when it’s so dark that the sky seems like it’s sparkling, away from all of the light and noise pollution of city areas. After several further seconds of white noise in his ears, Kato stills when a hand lands on his shoulder, firm and reassuring. Familiar.

“You good?” Ukyo’s bass-toned voice is hard to mistake, though it’s always offset by his rather calm demeanour, unlike his brother who has the slur of a Yakuza in his speech and the temper of a raging inferno.

“M’fine.” Kato hums, running his fingers through his hair and taking in a deep breath. It’s odd, he thinks, to be here overwhelmed as a human even though demons are usually at their peak for sensory overload most of the time.

“Hyuga’s been out for a while. Said to check on you.” Ukyo passes him a glass of water, which at first Kato wants to snort at until he instantaneously feels the burning in his throat and the scratch that’s been building up since he awoke.

Taking the glass, Kato wastes little time and drinks the entire thing in under thirty seconds, the relief of the cool water resulting in a loud sigh of brief contentment. He lies down on his back, arms behind his head, pondering what exactly Hyuga is up to now. Something tells him Hyuga will only be vague about the entire thing. Getting information from him was like pulling teeth at the best of times. It didn’t change the fact that he’d now probably owe Hyuga for the rest of his life, his now _mortal_ life. He supposes in retrospect it’s funny, to be sat here in this place as a mortal and not a human-demon hybrid. He’d always liked the fragility and temporality of human life, the way humans seemed to feel so much more in such short and intense bursts of emotion. Hyuga was always a figure of intrigue to Kato, a complete enigma, yet now he transcended any and all explanation.

“You know,” Ukyo says softly, so softly that Kato is only startled from his daydreaming because he’s now hyperaware, “we all had reservations about you when you first joined.”

Ukyo sits across from Kato, always looking completely comfortable regardless of the circumstance. One thing Kato has always appreciated about Ukyo is his ability to always seem unconcerned by everything, as though anything not worth his time is nothing worth emotional strain. The concept that the others may have been cautious about Hyuga accepting him into Daruma is hardly a revelation, yet Kato’s interest is piqued anyway, curious as to why Ukyo is bringing this to his attention now.

“Hyuga was adamant about the entire thing. I trust Hyuga, so does Sakyo, so we didn’t question it. All we knew was that he was bringing some pre-teen, human-demon hybrid into our house and as you can imagine, we weren’t too thrilled about that.” Ukyo stares into space with eyes that look glazed in reminiscence, an odd expression for someone who usually seems to lack most forms of sentimentality.

“But then we saw you. Do you remember your first night here?” Ukyo glances at him even though it’s clearly a rhetorical question meant to elicit his memories of the night he arrived at Daruma. “You were scared shitless. I don’t even think _you_ knew why you’d followed Hyuga here. All I knew when I looked at you was that you were alone and you were scared. That’s all I ever needed to know.”

Kato hums, tilting his head ever so slightly, engrossed in the telling of events from someone else’s point of view. After all, it’d been a _long_ time since he’d first stepped foot in here. He’d only become heavily active in Daruma a couple of years ago, but he’d been at Daruma much longer than that.

“My point is, regardless of what happened last night, you’ve always been a part of Daruma and always will be.” Ukyo says firmly.

“Thanks.” Kato smiles to himself, then it blossoms into a cheeky grin. “Not like you to get so sentimental.”

“Shut the fuck up, brat.” Ukyo narrows his eyes at Kato, shaking his head slowly. “Before I take it back.”

“Whatever.” Kato chuckles to himself, closing his eyes and appreciating the cool breeze drifting in from the window. It barely takes a few minutes for him to drift off once more, only briefly conscious for one more second as Ukyo drops a blanket over him.

 

* * *

 

 

It was kind of like looking at a really old photo album. The kind where you don’t really have any recollection of the pictures being taken, or what the circumstances necessarily were, but you can feel the emotions anyway. There’s almost a cloudy quality to it all, like the edges are faded and the images are shrouded as if someone has brushed over them with something. It’s this vague quality that tends to be a vignette to most of an ‘aware’ demon’s memories. Memories of a time when they were human. Not all demons are given this luxury and for many, it would be considered a hindrance and an annoyance. For Shion, it’s rather melancholy. To remember the self he was before he became a demon allows him to remember that he can still be humane, that he can still have a semblance of emotionality a lot of other demons lack, even if it’s only a fragment of a person he isn’t anymore.

It couldn’t be more apparent that he isn’t that person anymore when he stands in the beginnings of a drug factory in the heart of the Nameless street, though it’s hiding in plain sight.

It’d taken months to acquire all of the materials and equipment for such a venture, Nikaido had told him, so he better do his job correctly. It doesn’t stop him from looking at these small bags that contain what can only be described as poison to the human body with great distaste. It was much harder than it used to be, pretending that he was doing all of this with a just cause. Smokey’s health was always his priority and yet Shion found himself wondering how Smokey could ever forgive him if he found out about Shion’s involvement in the beginnings of this drug factory. Or worse still, the possessions that had been happening. None of the Rudeboy’s were even aware of what he was and Shion intended to keep them blissfully ignorant for as long as possible. Once he’d gotten all the money he’d needed, perhaps he’d wait until Smokey got better to tell them and at least afterwards he could leave in peace.

“Shion?”

His senses were still remarkably human, not noticing the footsteps that had crept up on him until it was too late. Not that it mattered, the visitor was fully aware of everything in the factory and the road it’d took to get here anyway.

“Lala.” He greets her, always deterred by her habit of looking completely harmless despite what was actually the complete opposite. Not that anyone would believe him if he told them.

“How’s it all going?” She asks, walking over to where he stands, looking around not with a face of disgust, but one of mild curiosity.

“As it’s expected to, I guess.” Shion replies, not wanting to give anything away. She’d been watching him carefully for weeks after all.

The thing about the memories that plagued Shion and his humanity was that not all demons were weighed down by such a thing. This was exemplified by Lala. When Shion had brought it up once, she’d though it very amusing, the prospect of mourning a life she believes ‘was barely worth living’. It’s not that she lacked any empathy, it’s just that her empathy extended only to her small family in the Nameless street. Whenever Nikaido were to ask the two of them to do anything, Lala was inclined to do as he asked since it was never at the expense of these specific people. In a way, Shion can appreciate that she at least does care about some people, even if it pains him to inflict damage on anyone.

“Nikaido-san said he’ll be visiting tomorrow.” She says, wrapping her arms around herself tightly as though she’s suddenly experiencing the cold of the Nameless Street for the first time. “Apparently he’s had some trouble that he had to take care of.”

“Something tells me the less we know, the better.” Shion responds in complete honesty, already feeling a severe sense of apprehension.

“So sensitive.” She says, shaking her head but patting his shoulder reassuringly. Whilst Shion does see everyone on the Nameless street as family, including Lala, it’s hard to feel complete love for someone who has all too willingly possessed innocent people before.

“I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” Shion waves as he leaves, wondering why everything seems to be heading towards disaster when merely a few months ago, everything had been going so well.

 

* * *

 

 

Though Kirinji was good for little, in Tatsumi Iemura’s opinion, he could still be utilised. Ranmaru Hayashi was now in prison and that left one less obstacle for Kuryu group. The amount of individuals suddenly becoming aware of the activity within Kuryu was an issue that needed to be resolved swiftly, so any small victory was a victory none the less. There were, however, lingering and more urgent problems that in Iemura’s mind, required more finesse. The existence and continued defiance of the Hyuga boy was an issue that most in Kuryu regarded with distaste and scorn, passing him off as a vague annoyance and not a threat. Iemura knew better than to pass that boy off as useless.

The Hyuga group had been a longstanding threat to Kuryu as a whole only a few years ago, after all, when the Iemura group was still at its height of disputes both with the Hyuga group and Mugen. Whilst many had been swift back then to brush the Hyuga group off as a minor threat, if even a threat at all, Iemura had cautioned them. Men who’d lost everything had nothing to lose after all, and those who had nothing to lose were not easy to sway with money and blackmail. It had been all to easy for him to orchestrate Mugen vs Hyuga group, in the end the Hyuga group sowed the seeds of their own destruction. Half were in prison and the other half were MIA. Leaving one very vengeful and very knowledgeable son behind. Something Iemura was not about to ignore.

To that end, he’d been having many sleepless nights of late, locked in his office pondering just how much the Hyuga boy did know. He’d been known to keep the company of multiple individuals, yet none piqued Iemura’s interest like one of his closest acquaintances. The demon hybrid.

It had been said, many years ago when Iemura was still in a dimension he’d rather not think about, that a child born of a human and a demon would bring the destruction of the world. The anti-christ, they’d called it. Yet, the world remained just as irritating and dull as ever and the boy seemed glued to Hyuga’s side, engaging in menial tasks at the behest of the ‘Daruma’ group. It confused Iemura on a professional level, though on a personal one he was perhaps more inclined to have a reason as to why Kato had stuck by Hyuga so fiercely and why in turn, Hyuga had allowed him to.

Demons often found a way to weasel their way into everyone else’s affairs and even though they ironically, had the poorest reputation of the bunch, always managed to stay involved with all beings on a personal level. That didn’t prevent Iemura from despising the very nature of demons to their core, their tendency to completely lose themselves in the vices of life with reckless abandon. Whilst he wasn’t one to deny his nature and his pull to the macabre and the taboo of the world, it was a different thing entirely to fling himself headfirst into a reputation in an attempt to exceed it.

So, when upon further coaxing, an impressionable younger member of Daruma agrees to give him information, Iemura jumps at the chance. The boy is a poor runaway, like most people in the Sword region. Asking him what seems to be harmless questions before paying him means the boy is barely even aware of what’s transpired, probably not even seeing it as a betrayal of his leader. It is though.

Iemura will sleep easier knowing there’s a possibility he could be cured, at least.

 

* * *

 

 

“Watching in the shadows again, are we?”

“I’m not in the shadows.” Smokey steps forward onto the empty street, surveying the man before him with weary eyes, as though just looking at him was difficult.

“Still following me in the hopes I’ll suddenly be someone you’ve already lost?” Nikaido smiles, a humourless and cruel smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m afraid you’re under the assumption that I’m going to let you get away with this.” Smokey puts his hands in his pocket, a gesture that oddly enough, concerns Nikaido somewhat. It implies he’s completely comfortable and there are no threats present. That he doesn’t see Nikaido as threatening. That alone is enough to get under his skin in a way nothing ever does, the other implications of such a simple action unclear.

“What exactly,” Nikaido looks him up and down with an eyebrow raised, “are _you_ going to do? You look like you’re two footsteps away from an early grave.”

“Contrary to your hasty assumptions I’m perfectly capable. But something tells me your habit of underestimating people tends to be your biggest weakness.” Smokey’s eyes twinkle, as if he knows something Nikaido doesn’t. It makes him intrigued, furious and needy in the most carnal way possible.

“You’re labouring under the assumption I _have_ a weakness.” Nikaido sneers, fixing his tie with fast and dextrous hands. “How sweet.”

“You do have a weakness. Their name is Kain and they aren’t a disgrace to humanity. I’m aware that’s something you’re unfamiliar with, though.” Smokey smiles sardonically, tilting his head as though to challenge Nikaido’s protests.

“You talk too much.” Nikaido moves forward with startling speed and force, Smokey’s back colliding with a nearby wall as Nikaido’s hand moves up to the bricks beside his head. “I’d advise you not to.”

“Yes, I’d trust advice from _you_.” Smokey wheezes, coughing intermittently and looking disgruntled, as though even if Nikaido knew of his illness it was somehow worse to see it up close. There is something that is oddly pitiful about it, as though the unfamiliar coil of worry is curling around Nikaido’s gut.

 _That just won’t do,_ he thinks, _you’ll have to try harder than that, Kain._

“You could do well to trust me,” Nikaido leans down, so close he can practically see the depth of Smokey’s eyes, a warm and inviting brown, “I’m the only one who could fix you, after all.”

“Unless you mean by giving me Kain back, I’m not interested.” Smokey replies finitely, with words Nikaido struggles to fathom. There are few people in this world Nikaido even considers worth his time, none of which he’d consider above the opportunity to improve his health and chance at survival if he were ill. It makes him curious but also weary, someone who is so selfless. It’s hardly common.

“You mean to tell me even if I said I could cure you now, you’d still rather take your beloved Kain back? Even after they willingly left you and let me possess them? After all they’ve seen?” Nikaido shakes his head, almost feeling a small stab of pity for the boy who clearly knows nothing about the effects of possession. Nobody ever remained the same afterwards, even if angel possessions didn’t crush the body the way demon possessions did.

“I would always choose them over myself.” Smokey smiles, a sad and longing smile.

That’s all it takes for Nikaido to press his palm against Smokey’s head and utter a few words until Smokey falls towards the ground and into Nikaido’s waiting arms.

Perhaps he wouldn’t be so argumentative now he’s cured. Nikaido just hopes that he’ll remember his manners and thank him.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah so it's been a while yet here I am again. Hopefully people can still enjoy reading this series (I never thought it'd be this long).


End file.
